Dragon’s blood by:
Annmarie McQueen
We found it in a charity shop: The perfect frame, mahogany wood Dusty in the back Scars tracing the glass surface Congealing at the edges. We tried her on for size Her, our dragon queen Our fiery goddess Trimmed down to four square walls And four square sides Frozen in her birthing flames A phoenix girl mid-flight. Hanging her was a solemn ritual: You brought hammers and screws I brought masking tape Body bandages Dressing her in a second skin The color of the earth. There was relief afterwards Appraising stares and photos A homecoming of sorts when she Came to rest above my headboard And I knew her steady eyes would See me through the night.
*** I took her down alone A year after we hung her together. I eased her gently into my arms and Stared into her volcanic eyes Admired the way her snowy hair Flared around her like a blizzard Tangled into brush strokes Ice caught between hard bristles. The day I moved out I tripped carrying her to the car. A jagged gash, long as a dragon’s claw, Cut her face in half. It was accidental symmetry, I decided One last grand, symbolic gesture As I watched a year’s worth of silent seeing Splatter the ground like blood.
